Never to Me
by Epoison
Summary: [Challenge fic from KHFFR!] Dresden Richards never asked for much. A chance to find good fic, the opportunity to write for a living, to perform onstage, that sort of thing. Maybe the chance to learn how to fence. Who said she ever wanted an adventure?
1. In Which Sanity Of Villagers Is Debated

_"Yes, badfic cliches. I know "Those Lacking Spines" is a hilarious spoof that handles horrible cliches with finesse and humor. But I'm curious to see if you guys can write half-way seriously the following and turn them into goodfic.__  
1. A self-insert character gets sucked into their PS2."_  
_-- (challenge from ChaosRamenCup at Kingdom Hearts FanFiction Rants)_

That is the basic premise of this fiction. It was a challenge inspired by CupRamenChaos at KHFFR, and it is nothing more. Consider this your warning-- this fanfiction will involve many, many OCs, various Disney worlds, swearing, a girl's frustration, Americans, American girls swearing in frustration, alcohol, underage drinking, various jabs at bad fanfiction and jokes about clichés, and various cameos by the original KH characters. Yes, I said _cameos_. Mix with two pints "WINE AND BEER!" and a heaping tablespoon of Awesomeness; bake 10-12 minutes until ego is thoroughly puffed up and inflated. Deflate with toothpick.

Sound like your cup of tea? Then read on, and please enjoy. (Also, a warning: The first chapter is indeed short. They are much longer after this. I promise.)

--

**Disclaimer: ** This story and all elements contained herein (unless noted), are property of Disney & Square-Enix, 2001-2007. PlayStation and its associated devices are property to Sony. No profit is being made (here _or_ on FanLib, _ever_, thanks much), and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dresden Richards is property of Epoison.

* * *

**Chapter One  
**_In Which The Sanity Of Villagers Is Debated_

_- - -  
_

Somehow… she wasn't quite sure this was where she was supposed to be.

You know, unless Ohio had suddenly managed to sink underground, or the earth had finally achieved synchronous rotation with the sun and therefore this side of the earth would forever be looking off into the vast reaches of space.

Highly unlikely in either case, she figured. She would have noticed either way (not to mention in order for the latter to be true, she'd have to have lived hundreds of millions of years—and she wasn't about to consign herself to being _old_ just yet). So with those two possibilities excluded, and nary a moon in the sky (hadn't it been full when she looked out her window?), Dresden Richards was _stuck_.

"So if I'm not at home, and I'm not anywhere instantly recognizable…" she wondered aloud, "just where the hell _am_ I?"

Possibly the first and most important question to be answered. Where was she, how had she gotten there, was there anything to be avoided, and how was she getting _gone_—maybe not all necessarily in that order, of course. Avoiding potentially dangerous things was probably a good thing to put to the top of the list if she wanted to live long enough to figure out where she _was_.

"Another one," she heard a man sigh, and she jumped. Okay, revise the list: Checking for _people_ around needed to come first! That way she wouldn't be so startled when they snuck up behind her. Not good.

"Another one what?" Dresden asked cautiously, twisting around and clambering to her feet, wary. Never trust anyone until they prove themselves to be deserving of it, right?

"Another refugee," the man responded, head lilting ever so slightly in his bemused state. "This's where they all come when the Heartless strike."

…

…

…wait a moment. _What_ had he just said? "Excuse me?"

"The Heartless," the man repeated, still giving her that odd look. "Ye must've hit your head if ye don't remember."

Dresden shook her head. "No, no," she disagreed. "Because I definitely hit my head, but these Heartless things you're talking about? They don't exist. They're _fictional_. Fic—tion—al." She dragged out each syllable as she spoke it, as though it would underscore her point.

The man shook his head again. "And I think ye'll be wanting to see a doctor about that bump before ye decide to be doin' anything. The Heartless are very real, miss, t'be certain."

…maybe it was time to back off. Someone speaking with an accent and claiming that the Heartless were _real?_ Had definitely been playing way too many video games. "I'll be sure to remember that," Dresden said instead, holding up her hands for a moment before looking around. "So—" she added casually, fairly certain now that she could at least ask questions without being a total fool, "—where are we, anyways?"

The man shook his head. "A world called Traverse Town, miss. Where survivors of Heartless attacks flee." He smiled slightly then, reaching out to pat her shoulder in a manner that was meant to be comforting. "You'll be safe here."

Was he insane, maybe? If he was, how should she break it to him? Was it even _wise_ to tell an insane person they were insane? Maybe not… it probably wasn't smart. And would probably lead to some of that arguing and life-threatening that she rather preferred to avoid. Yeah, avoiding it sounded like a good idea. So instead, Dresden shook her head, turning to look again at her surroundings. Brown fence, cobblestone wall, dark sky above, and the distant glow of neon lights ahead. "I think I'm going to go _that_ way," she decided to herself, nodding decisively and pointing up. "Er…" What to say to the weird inane one? "Thanks for your help."

Or not-help, as it were. But that was okay! She'd just go toddle onwards and see what those lights were all about. Cities, right? And she'd hopefully be able to find someone up there who'd know where they _really_ were.

- - -

"_What do you __**mean**__, my world must have been destroyed?"_

Well, it seemed inanity was a relatively common thing around this area. Dresden shook her head, arms folded as she walked out of the shop. "The world has gone insaaaaaaane," she sang out quietly, pushing through a set of doors. "Whoever heard of a—"

She stopped dead, looking ahead of her. And then, slowly: "Ohhh, you have _got_ to be kidding me."

At first? She'd been relatively able to ignore how things seemed to be scarily familiar. Even the _names_ could be ignored. But she'd just pushed through into a very, _very_ familiar sight, and there was no denying it: "I don't think I'm in Ohio anymore, my non-existent Toto."

In fact, she was standing smack in the entranceway of Traverse Town's First District.


	2. In Which Battle Tactics Are Revealed

_"Yes, badfic clichés. I know "Those Lacking Spines" is a hilarious spoof that handles horrible clichés with finesse and humor. But I'm curious to see if you guys can write half-way seriously the following and turn them into goodfic.__  
1. A self-insert character gets sucked into their PS2."  
-- (challenge from ChaosRamenCup at Kingdom Hearts FanFiction Rants)  
_

Back again, loves. I won't spend too long chattering, but the second chapter is here. All the same warnings from the last chapter apply (most specifically the ones about swearing), and as I said last time, I do hope you enjoy. Please let me know if you do, mm? I would love to know how this attempt is doing at answering that challenge.

--

**Disclaimer:** This story and all elements contained herein (unless noted), are property of Disney & Square-Enix, 2001-2007. PlayStation and its associated devices are property to Sony. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dresden Richards, the blue-eyed boy, and the sword-swinging wonder are property of Epoison.

* * *

**Chapter Two  
**_In Which Dresden Reveals Her Patented, Fool-Proof Battle Tactics_

- - -

For several seconds, all she could do was blink. Traverse Town? What kind of mindfuckery was this? There was no way it existed, and _definitely_ no way she was there. "Clearly it's just 'let's screw with Dresden's mind'-day," she muttered, running her hands through her hair and pulling just a bit. "All right, your point is proven!"

What point that was, she didn't know. But it had been proven all the same.

She hesitated, but no-one popped out to laugh at her, so… Dresden shook her head. It _wasn't_ real. It couldn't be.

She reached over and smacked the doorframe.

But apparently, it _was_ real, because that had _hurt_.

She blinked again, looking at her hand before glancing around. "This… really _is_ real." What had happened, though? Was it some kind of tripped-out dream—no, no, she would have remembered that. Wouldn't she?

Dresden shook her head again. "Okay," she murmured aloud, setting her chin. "Let's just not even go there right now, all right? Let's figure out what the hell's going on first, and _then_ we can turn to what kind of crack you've been smoking." She nodded to herself, folding her arms and looking out over the square again.

_Let's see, then…_ there was the café, the item shop, the accessory shop, the post office drop-box… it was all just how she'd known it would be, and yet entirely different. It was a lot bigger, for one, and there were a lot more _people_, milling about the plaza and chattering happily amongst themselves. There were houses off to either side of her, flanking the gate she'd entered as well as the entrance to what she assumed would be Third District, if they hadn't been switching things up on her again. A dog barked as it wove between the villagers, chased by a whole gaggle of younger children, giggling madly as they tried to catch it. Two boys hung around one of the lightpoles; one had grabbed hold of the "branches" of it that housed the actual lights, and had his feet braced on the pole as he scanned the crowd. "Jacob, where did you go?"

Despite herself, Dresden had to smile a bit. It was so different than what she was used to, and yet exactly the same—it was… _strange_ to find Traverse Town as a _normal_ town.

But standing here wasn't going to help her find her answers, now, was it? She shook her head, then started forward, into the crowd. _Act like you own the place!_ However, she didn't get very far.

"Hey, someone stop him!"

The shout rose above the crowd; half the people stopped abruptly, trying to look around and see what was going on. There was another shout, unintelligible this time, and directly in front of Dresden a boy pushed his way out of the crowd—and almost directly into her. She squeaked, trying to get out of his way—they both went to her left. She tried to go the opposite way, but he was already going that way; after just a few tries, she ducked his arm. "Sorry…!"

He bolted without another word, and Dresden felt like smacking herself. That had been stupid—she should have done something else! Though honestly, what _would_ she have done? She twisted around, trying to get a glimpse of the boy as he disappeared into the crowd. He turned halfway himself, and for just a second she could see the blue of his eyes before he disappeared into the throng.

She turned back around, glancing down at the ground, eyes wide. She… had _no_ idea what had just happened.

"What happened?" The voice that had made the initial shout was speaking again; the man was pushing his way towards where the "confrontation" (if one could really call it that) had occurred. "You almost stopped him!"

Dresden glanced toward where the man was almost to the break in the crowd, then away. She didn't want to be stuck there explaining why she hadn't grabbed him or something… She'd already made her decision before he'd even spoken, to be honest. She shrugged her shoulders further back into her jacket, then twisted. "Excuse me…"

She barely waited for the woman next to her to acknowledge her words before she was darting past, disappearing into the crowd.

- - -

_Stupid. That's what you are._

_I know, I know._

_What kind of an idiot are you, anyways? Why the hell do you go running off when you don't have a clue where you're going?_

_It looks a lot smaller on the television…_

_Well, that's all fine and peachy, but what now, fool? Now you're lost, and guess what—this –isn't– a game. You're really in it now._

_I don't want to think about that. Shut up, brain._

Dresden shook her head as she finally slowed to a stop, looking around and hooking her thumbnail inbetween teeth. After she'd reached the edges of the crowd, she'd taken off without a thought as to where she was going—she just wanted away from that lot for the moment. But in making her "escape," she'd managed to get herself hopelessly lost, as well. It really _was_ a lot bigger than it looked… _But I guess that's because they don't want to take the time animating huge crowds,_ Dresden thought wryly.

A pause.

"Oh, God,_ how the hell did I wind up here?_" Dresden dropped her head into waiting hands, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. It wasn't helping. _This isn't supposed to be possible; it's just not –reasonable!– It's only in the bad fanfic I used to read on ff.n!_

She needed to beat herself awake! That was it, surely. And look! A convenient wall!

Seven painful meetings with the wall later, she had to admit it wasn't working.

_I thought you didn't want to think about that, anyways?_

Oh, great. That was all she needed to make the day perfect. A mouthy conscience, as well.

Why, yes, she _was_ freaking out a little, thank-you-very-much!

The thing that pulled her from her thoughts finally was a sound she hadn't thought she'd hear here: a kitten's meow. Dresden blinked, turned… and her jaw dropped. Somehow when she'd been distracted, a pair of cats and their three kittens had managed to pass her (though that wasn't the part that surprised her, to be honest…). And she'd almost managed to trip over one of the kittens, a black one with a red ribbon tied around its neck—that had been the source of the meow.

However, that wasn't what was made her stop dead. What had _her_ blinking was who the cats _were_. She recognized them! "It's Duchess!" she squeaked. "And O'Malley cat!"

The cats didn't pause, although the three kittens did. But after a moment, they realized they were losing their mother and they pounced after her.

Dresden had to stop again. This was… this was _real_. And it was becoming more and more clear.

Wow. That was something to think about. What had… _happened?_

—but that was something to think about later, because the cats were leaving her! And as lost as she was, she was going to follow _anything_ to get out of there. And hopefully back into the streets that she _knew_. "Who ever would have imagined that it would be this big?" she wondered aloud, giggling slightly. "It's insane."

_Well, you're pretty insane, yourself. Who carries on these sorts of conversations with themselves?_

_I do!_

…_my point has just been proven, I think._

…_maybe._

She followed the cats for only a few minutes; they seemed to realize she was tailing them (well, it wasn't as though she'd been _discreet_ about it) and as she turned a corner, they were gone. However, she'd finally begun to see more lights that she hadn't seen before, and by that time, she could find her own way.

That wasn't, of course, to say that she was prepared to step through an archway and find herself in the middle of the Second District.

A split-second of panic. Of course, the first thing she thought of was what had _happened_ the first time she—or rather, Sora—had walked into the Second District. Was she in for a repeat performance?

A hesitation. A glance around herself. A step forward…

And an abrupt meeting of face and palm as she heard the telltale sound of the Heartless appearing.

Oh, god, oh, god, this was horrible and bad and how the hell was she going to get herself out of this one she'd never even had any sort of _training_ in fighting and if she couldn't _fight_ she couldn't _protect_ herself and this so, so, so wasn't good at aallllllllll…! Dresden whipped around, wide-eyed, trying to see where the Heartless wa—

It leapt at her. She saw it out of the corner of her eye and shrieked, an arm coming up to shield herself as she stumbled backwards. Claws ripped into her arm and she cried out in pain, shaking her arm frantically and turning tail to run.

Battle plans? Run. Like. Hell.

It worked for only a couple seconds—she'd emerged into the bottom plaza, and there were several groups of Heartless appearing at a time. More than she had known would appear. "It's a lot easier in the game!" she cried out, but the words were lost due to her shuddering breath.

"What are you _doing?_"

The voice almost made her stop again, but the knowledge that a horde of Heartless was at her back was more than enough to keep her going. After a moment, the demand was repeated, and she shouted in return, "Well, I can tell you—" pause for skirting a narrowly-missing claw, "—what I'm not doing: I'm _not_—" pause again, "—getting killed!"

For a moment, there was no response, but then a second later, Dresden had to pull up short as a boy leapt the rail in front of her. For a moment—just a _split-second_—she almost thought that he would be the guy that she'd seen earlier in the crowd; after all, wasn't this how it was supposed to go? But then she dismissed the thought; that was only in fiction.

He drew a dagger from his belt and she couldn't help but squeak, ducking down and diving to one side. She sat up just in time to watch him drag the dagger upwards through one of the Heartless that had been chasing her, following it with a stab. The Heartless dissolved, crystalline heart drifting upwards as per usual, but the boy didn't seem to notice; he'd already tugged a gun from his holster, aiming it towards the next set. He tucked the dagger back into his belt in one smooth, practiced movement and pulled another gun with the other hand.

Whatever Dresden had been expecting, it was _not_ that he was going to toss her the gun. "Familiar with these at all?" he demanded of her, drawing the knife again.

"_Eh?_ What?"

"Do you know how to use it?"

Dresden examined the weapon. She'd usually avoided guns like the plague, although she'd written about them more than once. She needed to turn the safety off, first… and… it was right there! She smirked triumphantly as the gun was armed: now to turn to the real problem. Could she handle it?

"Hey!" The boy was shouting again. "Don't you dare try to get someone else taking care of this for you! Can you handle that thing or not?"

"Um, well…" Dresden stuttered, still staring down at the gun in her hands. "I took a class once, but it wasn't really… it wasn't _this_ sort of—" Trigger?

The gun discharged violently, sending a bullet straight through the golden top of a nocturne.

"You know what? No," claimed Dresden, eyes wide as she stared at it. "No, no, not at all."

"Time to get familiar, then."

This time, she actually _did_ flail a little bit, waving her arms frantically. "What—right _now?_"

"Unless you prefer to die!" the boy shouted back. "You managed to stir up more than enough of them for one person—some of them are going to be coming your way, too!"

Dresden swallowed hard, feeling unsteady as she set both hands on the gun's grip. "But—but I can't shoot! I've never—what if I _miss?_"

"_Don't!_"

"Not helping!"

Somehow—she'd never know how—he managed to pause in fighting, shooting her a glare over his shoulder. "We don't exactly have time for lessons!" he informed her bluntly, jabbing his dagger into a Soldier's helmet. "I've told you already. Let me know if I should just get out of here and leave you to them or not!"

She may not have known much at that time, but one thing was for sure: "Don't leave me!"

"Then start shooting!"

What choice did she have? It was quickly becoming a "do-it-or-die" situation, and she certainly didn't want to _die_ yet. Dresden lifted the gun, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again—she really didn't want to shoot her help, after all.

And then she pulled the trigger.

…she _missed_.

_How did you –miss?– I swear, girl, Maddi would be ashamed of you._

_Quiet!_

Even though she'd missed, it wasn't as bad as she'd thought. She'd hit the corner of one of the buildings near, and a small chunk of the corner had broken off and fallen to the ground. That wasn't bad, right?

"What the hell were you aiming at?"

"Shut it before I aim at you instead!" Yep, Dresden was sulking now. Kind of. As much as it was possible to sulk while attempting to re-aim the gun, at any rate.

"Not like you'd hit me, is it?"

She didn't respond. Not yet. Instead, she turned to the gun, firing another shot while attempting to fix her terrible aim.

Thankfully, with the both of them working together, the Heartless didn't last long. And good for it; Dresden didn't think she'd be able to keep it up for very long. As the last one dissolved from existence, she dropped her stance. That had been the most _nerve-wracking_ experience of her life—and she included any and all solo performances in that. How…? Her lips curved slightly as she realized what she'd been just about to say. _How does Sora put up with this all the time? Come on, Dresden. It's a –game.– He doesn't. You are._

The smile faded abruptly as another realization hit her. _Except… you're here, aren't you? So… it kind of –is– real. If Sora's somewhere around here, he –is– putting up with that all the time._

She shook her head. At the same time, the boy from before reached her. She immediately held out the gun to him; he took it and tucked it back into his belt. He didn't speak.

"…thanks," Dresden said after a moment. "I, uh… probably would have been out the doors to First District if you hadn't come." Another question there—would the Heartless have followed her if she'd gone? Or would it have been like the game where they just disappeared until you came back in?

"Ow!" A sharp rap to the head shook her back to the now; the boy was giving her that _look_—the sort of look that deemed the recipient an idiot of the highest order. "What was that for?"

"That was for being an idiot," he responded. "You can't go out into the First District once you've caught the attention of the Heartless! You've seen how many people are out there—they can't all defend themselves like you or—well, like I can. If you went out there with all those Heartless following you…"

They lapsed into silence, her unspoken wonderings answered. All those people… at once, Dresden felt a sudden gratefulness to this kid. "I'm sorry," she finally said, looking up and meeting his eyes. "I didn't know."

"Ignorance isn't much of an excuse."

"I know." There wasn't much else she could say.

"If you don't know how to fight, what were you doing in the Second District, anyways?"

Her head snapped up. "Well, it wasn't intentional. There was sort of a… an explosion—not a real explosion, don't worry! I mean—just—things went crazy, I guess," she covered quickly as the boy made to dart toward the doors separating the districts. "Someone took something? I was standing there and someone just shouted 'Somebody stop him!'" She waited a moment, but he didn't say anything in response. However, he was still standing there, so she took it as a signal to carry on. "And he went past me and I just felt like an idiot so I went into the alleys. And got lost. And then I followed a couple cats and they came out here, is all. It wasn't intentional…"

Feeling even more like an idiot? Oh, yes, check.

After a time, the boy sighed, shaking his head. "Well, if you're here in Traverse Town, you've got to learn these things."

"I haven't even been here a day yet!" Dresden interrupted. "I'll learn them…"

The boy shot her a look. "You've only been here _hours_ and you're in here? Most newcomers are still in the accessory shop driving Cid insane with questions."

Ohshit. This was where she was going to have to watch her step very, very carefully. "…Cid?" Dresden parroted, striving to keep her face carefully blank.

She was internally pleased to watch the boy's palm meet his forehead; good, she had managed it for now. "You haven't even talked to Cid yet?"

Dresden shook her head. "I talked to this other guy first, and then I was in the plaza. And then you know the rest."

Now it was _his_ turn to shake his head. "Well, I'm not doin' it. I refuse."

"What?"

"I'm not gonna be the one to tell you that—" He stopped short, finally looking away for the first time since the Heartless had stopped attacking. But he didn't need to finish. She knew what he'd been about to say.

"—that my world's been destroyed. Is that it?" Dresden asked quietly.

His head snapped back towards her, and she sighed. "I know already." She didn't _believe_ it at all, but she knew what he'd tell her. "So what am I supposed to do after that? Nod and smile, and sit in the First District while everyone else gallivants around trying to save the worlds from the Heartless?"

"Some people do that, yes."

"Well, I don't want to," decided Dresden. "I've been wanting to actually learn how to fight for years anyways, and this seems like an opportunity. Don't get me wrong—" she added quickly, seeing how the boy was about to cut her off violently, "—I more than know this isn't a game. But there's no way in hell I'm just going to sit around, and if I'm going to be going into the danger, I'll need to know how to defend myself. So tell me—where can I do that?" Lips curved up into a wry smile; she raised an eyebrow. "Who can I go to that might be willing to teach me how to use some form of weaponry?"

This was bound to be both terrifying and interesting.

The boy shook his head. "You sure about this?"

Dresden nodded. "Never been more certain."

He shrugged. "Well, then, I guess you're coming with me for now."

"What?"

He smirked. "We'll just say that Abernant and I have close ties."

…well, if she went off of the "Stereotypical Fanfic Cliché List," she would be in trouble because he would be this "Abernant" character himself. But she was going to hope that that wasn't true, and that she wasn't setting herself up to look like an idiot here.

He was already walking away. "Come on. Lessons start when the bell chimes, and it's going to take a bit longer to get there since you haven't the slightest how to fight yet."

Dresden squeaked, jumping a little before darting after him. "All right. Thanks." And going on at least a _little_ bit of the manners she'd been taught… "Oh, and um… I'm Dresden. Dresden Richards."

"Name's Kale."

"All right… Kale. Thanks. Again."

"I wouldn't say that just yet. Here, take this; Heartless'll probably be coming before we get over there."

"'Kay."

And as they set off once again, she couldn't help but feel a little bit better.


	3. In Which There Is Progress Made

_"Yes, badfic clichés. I know "Those Lacking Spines" is a hilarious spoof that handles horrible clichés with finesse and humor. But I'm curious to see if you guys can write half-way seriously the following and turn them into goodfic.__  
1. A self-insert character gets sucked into their PS2."  
-- (challenge from ChaosRamenCup at Kingdom Hearts FanFiction Rants)  
_

Goodness, chapter three already—at this rate I'll run out of buffer chapters! Which is not an altogether displeasing prospect… but that's rather besides the point. Thanks to all who have reviewed so far! I can't tell you how happy it makes me to see people enjoying my dorky little Dresden. As always, the previous warnings apply to this chapter (particularly the swearing one—writing bars is always interesting in that respect!), and I hope you enjoy.

--

**Disclaimer:** This story and all elements contained herein (unless noted), are property of Disney & Square-Enix, 2001-2007. PlayStation and its associated devices are property to Sony. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dresden Richards and most of the characters in this chapter are property of Epoison.

* * *

**Chapter Three**_  
In Which There Is Progress Made_

"On my mark. Ready… and begin!"

The word sent a thrill of fear through her; Dresden gripped her training daggers a bit harder as she slid a foot around, lowering her centre of gravity as her opponent started forward. She hesitated, waiting a moment, and then danced backwards as the girl swept downwards with the sword she was using, using one wooden knife to knock it aside.

Things had changed little since she'd arrived in Traverse Town. She'd at least managed to find a place to stay (she'd been offered a place with a few from Abernant's training lessons, and who was she to refuse?), and she'd managed to pick up more than a couple tricks from the weaponry lessons Abernant was giving (and ohh, was she quickly learning that the fight scenes she'd written weren't at _all_ possible), but that was about it. She hadn't made any further progress on figuring out just how she'd gotten there, or how she was going to get _out_.

"I bet you someone's sitting there at my TV," she'd sulked at one point, "just watching me and _laughing_."

Didn't seem too farfetched, at any rate. She'd decided from that first day that she wasn't about to tell anyone that, "Oh, hey, lookit! You're all in a videogame and it doesn't really matter what you do, because you and you and you are going to die, and you're going to go here and be successful, and oh, hi! You're going to go to Hollow Bastion to help Sora out!" It just didn't seem _smart_. She'd likely be taken over to wherever they locked up the crazy people, anyways, and gone with your chances of doing anything, dear! Have a nice life going insane.

It was _hard_, though. She'd met Cid a couple days back, and it had been _so hard_ not to fangirl—she had only just managed to keep herself to acting normal and giggling behind her hand at his manner. She had a feeling that it was only going to get harder, too. _Especially _if she were to run into some of the other "cast members" of the game. But all she could do was try, right?

"_Yeee_—" Dresden only _just_ caught her balance in time; the girl she was up against today had already been training a week longer, and it showed. She ducked another swing, awkwardly retaliating and finding herself blocked as the other girl twisted her sword to block. Fighting with daggers was supposed to be easier than with a sword! But it looked as though she wasn't really getting a break. She dodged another strike, then lashed out—and blinked as it made contact.

…woo!

Aah, but the trick was to keep _moving_, wasn't it? She was reminded of this as the sword came back and caught her in the side; she winced. That had _hurt_… Thankfully she avoided the second strike, but in backing up, she managed to over-compensate for the movement and wound up sprawled on the ground.

…_damn_.

There was really only one thing for it, wasn't there? Dresden started to sit up, but rolled backward instead, twisting over a shoulder and dropping her knees back down. She jumped up just in time, silently offering apologies to the old man dance director (he'd been right; practicing _did_ pay off in the long run…). Then she lunged to one side, narrowly avoiding the stroke that had been waiting for her. It seemed like all she was doing was dodging and lying on the ground, but that was nothing new, at least. She rolled over her shoulder again, sliding up to a half-kneeling, half-crouched position and climbing the rest of the way up as she blocked a strike.

"You won't be able to win if you just defend yourself, Dresden," advised Abernant from outside the circle. "You'll have to take a chance sometime!"

He was right. Dresden inhaled sharply, then moved—she brought a leg up, sweeping it around in a fan kick that would have had her director beating his head in with a drumstick: her leg was bent, foot flexed. No, strike that, he would have had _her_ head for that. But it worked for her purposes; her booted foot met her opponent's wrist and drove the sword the opposite way. She flailed mentally for a moment, but then reached out, striking the girl on the wrist where she held her sword, making her nearly drop it. At the same time, she reached out to set her wooden blade by the other's throat (and end the duel), but at the same time, the girl had pulled her _own_ wooden dagger from her belt and had it leveled between her eyes.

Dresden's eyes crossed. She heard scattered clapping, and then an approving sound from her left. She glanced that way, careful _not_ to move, as Abernant sauntered back into view, looking satisfied. "A good spar, girls," he nodded approvingly, motioning that they could each take their weapons back. "Hana, your attacks are relentless, and your power is controlled. However, you need to recover faster from that break. If you could have forced your sword directly back after Dresden broke your chain, you could have beaten her."

Hana nodded, bowing slightly. "I will work on it."

He nodded as well. "Dresden—nice reflexes. That kick was a nice attack in itself; you should work on using your body more. Weapons are an extension of your body, and knowing how to fight with just your hands and feet first will make it a lot easier."

"All right," Dresden accepted.

"Also, you need to _get over_ that fear of attacking," Abernant stressed. "You can guard yourself for ages, but if you never take the offensive, how do you expect to beat your opponent?"

"I can always duck and cover and hope they trip over me?" offered Dresden half-heartedly. But catching his look, she sighed. "Right. Grow a backbone. Check."

Abernant nodded in approval, then looked past her to the rest of his students. "All right. Next round… I want Casey and Raiden. Hana, Dresden, you two over to Kale. We're doing more agility and tumbling work after this."

- - -

"It's harder than I expected it would be," complained Dresden later, pulling a knee into her chest and watching her listener.

Sain didn't seem to be bothered; he threw his squat throwing knife by the blade, expression unchanging as it hit the centre of his target. "What, you expect you'd walk in here and master it all, maybe save a couple worlds along the way and have all us hanging on your adored arm?"

"_No!_" Dresden wrinkled her nose as Sain used a spur of magic to draw the knife back to him. "…lazy."

"You want to walk them back to me?"

"Not really."

"You're just as lazy."

"But I didn't think it would be _this_ hard." Dresden took up her words from earlier, resting her cheek on her knee. "I mean, I knew it would be work, but… okay." She sighed. "I'm used to it being easy, I guess. Like at home—" a verboten subject for the most part; she'd avoided mentioning anything about how she'd actually _gotten_ there, "—I was on a dance team. Never took any formal lessons, but I could pick it up fast enough that by the end of the eight months, I was one of the best."

"That's eight months, Dresden," pointed out Sain, throwing the knife again. "You've been here, what, two weeks?"

Dresden shrugged. "I guess that could be true, too. But still." She felt a little cheered, though—in dance time, she was still trying to learn a pirouette. She wasn't doing that badly, she supposed.

"You'll see," said Sain, grinning as he threw the knife a third time. "Give Abernant another month. Tell him you want extra training. I promise, it'll feel like years."

Dresden made a face. "I'll pass. I think I'd die if I tried to go more."

Sain laughed. "Then don't complain."

_Thunk._

"You need to stop throwing that knife, Sain!" Another voice floated in through the doorway. Noemi, another of the house's tenants, had been in the kitchen for the past half-hour, trying not to burn the pasta they were cooking for dinner. "I'm going to be mightily angry if that thing hits me in the back. Moreso if I burn the sauce because of it!"

"Ah, don't you know me well enough by now?" Sain called back. "I don't miss!"

_Thunk_.

"That's what they all say," Noemi grumbled half-heartedly, smiling despite herself as she appeared in the doorway. She grabbed the knife's handle just as Sain started to pull it back to himself, brandishing it at him. "Move your target."

"But this is right across from my couch!" he protested, looking hurt.

"Better you moving than one of us _not_," she responded, still good-natured even as she raised a challenging eyebrow at him. They looked at each other for a long moment before Noemi turned, shaking her head and laughing. She paused just a beat, then reacted, plunging the dagger back into the board in an instant before calmly walking back into the kitchen.

Dresden, who had been giggling behind her hand throughout the entire exchange, couldn't help but burst into actual laughter as Sain tried to pull the dagger back to him and failed. "She sunk it in too far," he noted mournfully, hand dropping to the couch. "Dreeeeeesdeeeeeeennnnnnnn…"

"What?" She already knew what was coming, though; even as he started his whining plea ("Will you pleeeeeeeeease get me back my daaaaaagger? Please? I'll love you forever and everything!") she sighed, climbing out of the chair and tugging on the dagger embedded in the target. It was stuck good, but after a minute or so of tugging this way and that, and wiggling the knife's tip, it came loose. Dresden ran a finger over its edge as she carried it back to Sain, perching on the armrest next to him and turning the knife in her hands. "I don't see how you can throw these things so well," she remarked, holding it up and aiming as though to throw it. "I can't even throw plastic _darts_ onto a target, let alone knives."

"Knives aren't that different," Sain told her. "Larger, sure, but they're subject to the same laws of the universe."

"And when _you_ throw them, they turn end over end," Dresden reminded him with a raised eyebrow. "How d'you keep the hilt from hitting the target instead?"

Sain grinned. "Lots of practice and a knowledge of distance. Why don't you give it a try? You'll see."

Dresden _eyed_ him. "Now you're just trying to get me in trouble."

"I would never!" Sain protested, but she could see the laughter in his eyes. "Look, I'll even show you how to do it properly. See, your fingers go like this…"

She watched with obvious misgivings as he showed her exactly how to grip the knife, then how to make the throw. He even threw it himself once, just to show her that that was how it went. And honestly… she _did_ want to try. How awesome would that be, to be able to throw knives? It certainly wasn't anything she'd ever be able to learn at _home_, so it was just as well that she learned it here…

Dresden took the knife, smiling. "All right. But if I hit anything, I'm blaming you."

"Ah, you can't be _that_ bad," Sain teased back.

Dresden stuck her tongue out. "All right, so how do you do this again…?" He mimed the throw, and after a long moment of concentration, she threw.

There was a loud clattering in the kitchen as the knife twirled through the open doorway, ostensibly falling to the floor harmlessly, if she judged sounds right. However, a moment more passed and Noemi's voice sounded. "Who threw that knife?"

As she rounded the doorway, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised high, both Dresden and Sain pointed at each other quickly. "It wasn't my fault!" they both piped, grinning nervously at her.

Noemi brandished the knife at them both. "I'm taking these away. From now on, knives only when you leave the house."

As she strode back into the kitchen, Dresden looked at Sain. "You can't be _that_ bad," she parroted.

- - -

Two months saw an entirely different person in Dresden. She'd still not come any closer to solving any of her most pressing problems (how she'd gotten there, whether or not she was dreaming, and how she was getting _out_), but several _other_ things had been happening that kept her mind off the worry she felt about that. Noemi had seen fit to give Sain's throwing knives back to him a week later, and after some pleading on Dresden's part, he'd finally agreed to _attempt_ to teach her how to use them (it only took a full week and a round of drinks at the hotel's bar!). Lessons with Abernant had been going swimmingly as well; once she'd resigned herself to having to work harder to pick up the skills needed, Dresden had been thrilled to find that she really wasn't as terrible as she'd thought. She was still a far cry from matching Abernant's strength, to be sure (or even matching Kale, for that matter, not to mention the vast majority of their students…), but being able to win against a couple of the students was more than enough for her at this point.

She'd also been working on a small bit of tumbling, as well, and for that she always groaned: Kale was a cruel man (honestly, whose idea of "amusing" was to make his poor acolytes do push-ups until they flopped?). However, she had to admit that it was at least worth the work, as she could now at least do a chin-up or two, which was an entirely new experience. Her flexibility and previous experience (a single month of "attempt to learn a back handspring before you turn thirteen!") had done to help her, as well, and now she could cartwheel with daggers in-hand (something she'd actually been trying to learn to do before she'd wound up here, admittedly) and do a back walkover with_out_ using a wall as she'd always done before. A handspring was something that still worried her a bit, but it was coming, and Kale had promised that "within the next month we'll have you cartwheeling and flipping down that little ledge running around the Gizmo Shop's roof."

Dresden had glared at him disbelievingly and then yelled. Lots. (His only response had been to smirk and laugh at her and point out that half the _other_ trainees were doing it…)

All in all, things on the fighting front were going fairly well. And the things that weren't?

Well, Dresden pointedly looked the other way and refused to acknowledge the things she wasn't doing so hot at (not "freaking the fuck out" when faced with Heartless was one such thing; shooting was another…).

She'd even loosened up enough to go out.

"—so he looks at Cid," Adan was laughing, grabbing for another shot glass as the platter was set onto the table, "and he looks back at me. And I just kind of give him that look, you know, the 'go for it' look, and he _says_—" He cut off, laughing too hard to speak, then paused a moment to toss back the shot before continuing. "He _says_, 'So I heard you've had experience with _materia _before.'"

Those sitting around the table howled with laughter, Dresden included. She reached forward, taking the glass between fingers and lifting it up out of the tangle of hands. After a long day of work (Heartless had been terrorizing the third district again and they'd all been helping rebuild), everybody had gathered in the bar beneath the hotel to relax and unwind. By… getting piss-drunk, admittedly, but it wasn't as though she had anything else to do—so Dresden had joined them. Besides, as she was quickly discovering, many of the assembled were actually great people in their own rights.

_Yeah, they just have a problem with the alcohol,_ thought Dresden wryly, amused nonetheless as she watched. _It likes them too much_. She herself had only touched a couple drinks, mother's words ringing in her head still ("I don't think you'll be the one I have to worry about going out and getting drunk. And you know why? Because you don't like not having _control_ of everything."). She eyed the alcohol in the glass momentarily, then shrugged, lifting the glass and downing the shot quickly (_buuuuuuuuurnburnburnburn oh it burned her throat_). She was wrong about that one—she just needed to find the right people, the ones she _trusted_ herself to get drunk with.

Who knew?

"I've never thrown myself off a roof!" cheered Sydin gleefully, raising a shotglass in the air. All the students from Kale's training shouted loudly in exaggerated disgust, grinning despite themselves as they whisked back their shots, all immediately ready and willing to take part in the impromptu "I've Never" game she'd started. Dresden shook her head, giggling in some form of weird amusement as she reached for her own glass; the older boy had been teaching his recruits the secrets of jumping from high places. One of those had been a roof (and as soon as he'd told them what they were going to do, he'd jumped, himself; to avoid the murderous urges of his pupils, no doubt).

"That's cheatin', Sy!" shouted someone else, rapping the girl on the head sharply; she only laughed and smacked the hand away.

"Not cheatin' if I've never done it!" she called in return. "Come on, who's next?"

"I've never cartwheeled the Gizmo Shop's edge!" Dresden shouted, words almost tumbling over themselves in her haste to get the challenge called. "Nor've I handsprung it, either!"

Sydin laughed again, reaching out and scooping up two glasses, raising them with a sardonic nod in Dresden's direction. "Let it be known I always take my own!" she announced dramatically, jumping up to her feet before knocking back first one shot, then the other.

Another round of cheering went up; hands reached forward for more glasses. Sain was near the middle of the bunch, spilling drink into shotglasses almost before they were on the table in front of him. "I've never fried a rhapsody in the midst of the third!" he called up, and the mages in the group groaned as one, laughing as they reached for the glasses. They'd had plenty of time to get that one scratched off, with all the work they'd been doing earlier.

"I've never stabbed a soldier right 'twixt his eyes!" declared one of the mages in return, offering the empty shotglass back to Sain, gleeful at his own use of irony. Dresden now was the one to let out the groan, laughing as she reached with her fellow combatants into the center for a glass.

"I've never pissed off Cid!"

"How'd you manage _that?_ That's fucking amazing!"

"I've never had a one-night in Traverse Town!"

"Oh, but you've had it somewhere else!"

"I've never walked in on Sain while he was showering!"

"_Fuck you, Noemi!_"

"Dresden, you're red!"

"Fuck you, too! I've never stuck Sain's dagger into that target!"

Two voices, now: "Fuck _you_, Dresden!"

"I've never trained in magic!" Dresden shouted quickly, to avoid having another exclusive challenge shot at her. The mages of the party shouted again, but quickly they all dissolved into laughter, a new round of drinks going around.

After a little bit, Dresden just stopped entirely—she was beginning to get a bit of a headache and with the way her thoughts were beginning to float a little bit, she suspected she'd had more than enough alcohol put into her system. "Sam'd want to kill me right now," she murmured to herself, amused by the thought. Her friend was _very_ against any form of drinking, and disapproved if she took so much as a _sip_ of Arbor Mist. But what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

It was getting to the point where people didn't even care what the challenges were—they were drinking anyways, tipping the glasses back as though it was a drink of water. Dresden didn't know whether to admire them or call them idiots, to tell the truth—but a moment later, someone new had plopped down in the chair next to the one she was straddling backwards, propping one black boot on his knee and beginning to rub at his ankle. "I've never seen men in black coats in the third district before…" he mused, almost to himself.

The words didn't go unnoticed. Those of the group who had been drinking too much all let out a collective cheer, grabbing for glasses although they likely _hadn't_ seen the men in black coats that the newcomer was talking about. A couple of them straightened up a bit more, shaking their heads to clear it of the fog that was beginning to descend on their thoughts—Dresden was one of these. "Black coats?" she ventured, almost certain she knew exactly where this was going.

The man turned, looking at her a long moment before nodding. "Black coats," he confirmed. "Long, zipped up tight so you can't see shape beneath, hoods pulled up and shadowed faces. Not an inch of skin visible anywhere."

"I think I saw someone like the one you describe…" remarked another man thoughtfully, one of the more sober ones. "Just a few days ago, in the first district. I thought I was seeing things; he was gone a moment later."

The newcomer nodded. "The same with mine. He looked at me but didn't say a word—just turned around and walked away. A couple steps, and he'd gone completely."

Dresden had a feeling she knew what this was. Some quill of excitement rising up within her, she voiced her question carefully: "Did they have… chains? Like, one right here?" She gestured with her hands, drawing the chain that draped across the coat right under the neck on the Organization XIII cloaks.

Both looked at her, and then the newcomer nodded slowly, as if in thought. "You know, I think he did," responded the man, looking up and furrowing his brow. "I really think he did."

"Then you've seen one of them, too?" the other man asked Dresden.

Dresden shook her head. "Only in—" she cut herself short. Finishing that sentence ("—the game.") would have probably been a bad idea. She paused a moment, then blinked. "Sorry. Only heard of them—some lady in first district was telling her friend she saw one. I overheard."

A thrill of both fear and excitement was slowly rising within her. Organization XIII had shown its face. She still couldn't account for exactly _when_ in the games she'd reached, but she felt she was narrowing in on that.

She'd found a bit of lead-way.


	4. In Which There Is An Attack

_"Yes, badfic clichés. I know "Those Lacking Spines" is a hilarious spoof that handles horrible clichés with finesse and humor. But I'm curious to see if you guys can write half-way seriously the following and turn them into goodfic.__  
1. A self-insert character gets sucked into their PS2."  
-- (challenge from ChaosRamenCup at Kingdom Hearts FanFiction Rants)  
_

Oh, I do enjoy being able to upload these chapters so quickly. Little to say today, but that's mostly due to several facts: A) I have work I really ought to be doing aside from this, and B) My friends and I are watching Princess Tutu as I type. (It is adorable, by the by, and I am almost recommending it.)

Enjoy!

--

**Disclaimer:** This story and all elements contained herein (unless noted), are property of Disney & Square-Enix, 2001-2007. PlayStation and its associated devices are property to Sony. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dresden Richards and most of the characters in this chapter are property of Epoison.

* * *

**Chapter Four  
**_In Which There Is An Attack  
_

"You're really leaving?" Dresden asked mournfully, chin resting on her arms. Noemi and Sain were both taking turns carrying items into the kitchen, all carefully boxed up to keep as few as possible.

"You couldn't have thought we'd be staying here forever, Dresden?" Noemi asked in return, arching an eyebrow as she set down another box. "We've all been working to do our part—and you know that means going where we're needed."

"Yeah," Sain piped up, giving her a remorseful grin. "You signed up to do the same, eh? One of these days you're gonna be the one heading off into the worlds. We can't stay here and baby-sit you forever, can we?"

"It was never baby-sitting," sulked Dresden. "I'm not _that_ much younger than you."

"Three years is a difference," Sain reminded her. "But you're right—it was never really baby-sitting."

"But we've been all living here four months already," Noemi put in. "And Sain and I longer than you. It's rare for any fighters like us to stay here longer than six months, to be honest, and you'll be getting your own assignment as soon as Abernant thinks you're skilled enough for it."

_So, never_, Dresden deadpanned to herself. She doubted she'd ever manage to get as skilled as some of the others were. Sure, she was improving, but still—she knew most of these people had to have had plenty of experience back in their original worlds; how could she compare to them? She was still struggling a little bit with the _first_ rules of fighting! "But does this mean that we're not going to see each other again?" She'd admit it—she was being sulky and clingy. But the two were the first and best friends she'd made in Traverse Town, and she wasn't really looking forward to being "alone" again.

"It could," responded Sain, serious for once. "The worlds're a huge and sprawling place, and there's no-one to say that we're not going to get ourselves into more trouble than we can handle. "

"But at the same time," Noemi cut in, "you know we know how to handle ourselves, and it's not as though we're leaving with the sole purpose of getting away from you." She smiled. "We'll still be through here from time to time, you know. It's not the end of the—" She blanched. "I'm sorry. It's not as though everything is ending, though. I promise we'll keep each other in line, and that we'll be back to see you, all right?"

Dresden gave a half-hearted smile. "I guess I can't really say much, anyways. I shouldn't stop you from going out and doing this." No matter how much she wanted to. "Just… be careful, all right?"

"You got it, kid," Sain grinned, thumbing his nose at her. "C'mere."

She couldn't help it—despite everything that had been going on, despite how fucking _weird_ it was knowing that she was living in a video game currently, despite the fact that she'd not even known these guys that very long… she was happy to step up and walk over to where Sain had spread his arms, hugging him tightly. She couldn't help but smile, pressing her face into his shirt and just holding tight for a moment as he did the same. "I'm gonna miss you, Sain."

"Hey, you think I won't, kid?" he joked, ruffling her hair—she pouted at him for only a second, but she couldn't be upset with him right now. "Hey—here, I've got something I want you to have."

Dresden raised an eyebrow. "What?" This was unexpected. She wouldn't have expected something like that out of him.

Looking slightly sheepish, Sain rummaged in his pockets for a moment. "Uh…" there was a long pause as he continued to search, and then with a flourish he pulled a small box out of his pocket. "Here!" He handed it off to her and then grinned again. "But don't open it until we're gone, okay?"

"All right," Dresden agreed—what else was there to say? "Noemi?"

The other woman was smiling, as though she already knew what Dresden was going to say. "Yes?" Dresden gave her a look that was a cross between sardonic and pleading, and Noemi chuckled, opening her arms up for a hug. "I'll miss you, too," she told her. "You'll be okay without us, won't you?"

Dresden made a face as she pulled back, tugging down on one eyelid. "I'm not a child, Noemi," she teased. "I'm sure I can get by on my own cooking."

"Just don't burn down my house while I'm gone, right?"

"I can do that."

"Hey, are you two ready?" A new voice drifted through the window; one of Abernant's men was standing outside, ready to leave. "Cid's already yelling, and Cor's not too patient, either."

"We're ready," Noemi responded, and at once the mood changed—tension settled over them all. Together, both Noemi and Sain swung their packs over their shoulders, heading for the door. "All our boxes are in stacks. Please keep them safe while we're gone."

"Of course." The man saluted. Sain and Noemi stepped out through the door. The man took something out of his pocket—Dresden couldn't quite see what—and threw it to the ground; a flash of light, and they were gone.

Dresden sighed. She still wasn't used to how quickly people seemed to come into and disappear from life yet. It was strange, and completely different than home. She'd known people who knew _others_ that were off fighting in wars, and she'd known people that had enlisted in some forms of the army/military… but she'd never been connected to the people that were doing the fighting themselves. It was… _weird_ to see people that were so ready to put their lives on the line for others—even people they'd never met before. She… she almost kind of envied them. To be so utterly caught up in it… but she also knew she couldn't do it. This was a game. It was a _game_. It didn't matter whether these people lived or died… did it? It didn't have an impact on her. All she had to do was hit the "Continue" button. And yet…

It _wasn't_ a game, either. Sain and Noemi—they had been much more than characters in a game. They had been real friends, and they had each had their own personalities—and she knew that if they had been a part of her "game," she never would have met them aside from perhaps a singular line: "Leon's been missing lately. I wonder where he is?" "I've heard that the Keyblade can unlock all sorts of things."

Dresden sighed, sinking into a seat and dropping her head into her hands. This was all so terribly confusing, and she had no idea where it was going. Was it a game, or wasn't it? Were these people real, or fake? She'd seen them bruise and bleed just like she did—was it animated, or were they real flesh and blood? Sain's hug… he had felt warm, the way a normal human would. But he was just a being in a game! There was a thick, bold line separating the two—and Dresden was scared to find that it was being scrubbed away more and more with every day.

"I don't know what to do," she murmured to herself. "I've just got to keep living life—day by day, right?"

But she also had to figure out how to get home. If there _was_ a home left for her to get back to.

Dresden shook her head. Her world had _not_ been destroyed. This was a _game_. She needed to drill that through her head. "A _game_, Dresden."

Her head was beginning to hurt. Without even thinking about it, she slid sideways, stretching out on the couch as she draped an arm over her eyes. A line echoed through her mind, and she immediately wanted to _smack_ herself for having that sort of thought:

_I've been having these weird thoughts lately… is any of this for real, or not?_

_- - - _

"_Dresden!"_

"_Yeah, mom?"_

"_Come on down—Aunt Liz is here!"_

"_All right!"_

What was this? Dresden blinked, lowering her hand as she looked around. She… she knew where she was. She was standing in the middle of her old—well, her old? Was it her old room now, or did it still belong to her at home?—room. Everything was just as it was supposed to look: TV, dresser, bed, closet, chair, amazingly eye-hurting and bright florescent orange sarong-as-a-tablecloth over her bedside stand… just one thing was out of place; Dresden almost had to take a step back as she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

For some reason, it hadn't struck her how different she looked from how she'd been before—at least, never while she was in Traverse Town. But here, now, she could see the difference—it was painfully apparent in looking at the two reflections she saw there. On the one side stood the "old" Dresden Richards, running a brush through dark-dyed hair, checking to be sure her earrings weren't falling out and tugging at her shirt to pull it down straight over her jeans. Clean, looking sure of herself despite the mental anxieties she had about her appearance.

And standing beside her, the "new" Dresden, looking a little run-down and ragged, but with an aura about her that she'd never seen before. Hair pulled up into a lopsided ponytail, mousy-brown roots grown out down past her cheekbones now. She had the distinct look of someone who'd lost weight in just a little time, and there were bags under her eyes. Dirt was smeared across her cheek, and even from that distance she could see where her tunic had been patched up and mended.

But for some reason, Dresden found she preferred the second Dresden, the one who _was_ all dirt and grime and too-little sleep. There was a sort of atmosphere around her that was a lot more comfortable—someone who was sure of herself and trusted herself, not someone who was simply putting up that farce. That girl smiled at her in the mirror, and Dresden found herself cheered slightly, despite still not having a clue what was going on.

_Abruptly, the scene switched—Dresden walked back up the stair, shaking her head and yawning. "Up at six tomorrow…" That was going to suck. She sighed, plugging in her phone next to her bed and checking the alarm, then shut off the lights and climbed beneath the covers, grabbing the stuffed bear as well._

This was boring. What point was there in reliving this? It had to be a dream, Dresden decided. Why would she be remembering this otherwise?

_An abrupt flash of light—except the flash never ended_.

- - -

_Thunk_.

"That looked painful."

"Unnn…"

"I take that as a yes?"

Dresden forced her eyes open, rubbing groggily at the back of her head. She… was on the floor. Except for her leg, which was still up on the couch. That she had just fallen off of. "Yes," she agreed. And then, "Wait a moment—Kale?"

Sure enough, the boy was blinking down at her. _That_ was a shock. He was also in her way of getting up—that _wasn't_ so much a shock. "What are you doing here?" Dresden asked instead, dropping her head back down to the floor and glancing at the ceiling. Very interesting, that.

"Came with Abernant and a couple of the guys to pick up Sain and Noemi's stuff," he shrugged. "We got most of it already, but then you decided that you'd rather sleep on the floor."

"It's a very comfortable floor," decided Dresden. "Good for your back."

Kale pulled a face. "It doesn't much look it."

"I'm lying entirely." Dresden pulled her own face. "Mind moving so I can get up?"

Kale acquiesced, taking a step back and offering her a hand up. Dresden took it, rubbing her head again as she looked toward where the pile of boxes had been. There were only a couple left. "Where are you taking them?" Dresden asked quietly, taking a couple steps toward them.

"There's a wizard—Merlin," Kale started, and Dresden had to blink again. She was never going to get used to hearing these Disney characters named off so nonchalantly. "He's helped us enchant a set of warehouses over near the gummi docks. They'll hold as much as we need them to, within reason."

"Do people usually come back for their stuff?"

A long pause—a very long pause. Dresden fidgeted slightly; she had a feeling she already knew what the answer was going to be.

In the end, he didn't answer her. Dresden looked away. "Well… thanks for coming and helping out, then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, just as usual." She turned away, heading back towards the other rooms. She didn't want to go out today.

"…Sometimes."

Dresden stopped, blinking—she wasn't sure she'd heard him actually speak. "What?"

"Sometimes they come back."

Dresden closed her eyes a long moment, sardonic, wry smile twisting her lips. "Thanks, Kale. But I need to get used to the world as it is. And that includes the reality that I'm not going to see Noemi and Sain again."

She left him standing in the room alone.

- - -

She reached behind her, long sword blocking the slash a shadow aimed at her shoulder-blades. Before her another curved sword twisted, slashing downwards through the body of a solider. An air-soldier wove in and out, aiming for her head; she threw herself forward and rolled, turning as she rose up again to impale it on the sword. Long black hair swept with her movements, and she reached up to tuck it behind her ears as she drove forward to meet the next Heartless.

The boy working with her was just as good, fighting with a combination of guns and knives. He threw with a terrifying accuracy, and the sounds of shots echoed off the cold cobblestone. At one point the Heartless he aimed at was destroyed just before his knife reached it; it continued on its path straight towards the girl. She leaned backwards, the knife soaring harmlessly over her head and straight into the mask of a soldier behind her.

"Wow," noted Dresden. "They're really good."

"Tell me about it." The other girl she was with sighed, resting her chin in her hand. "I don't think I'll _ever_ reach their level."

"They had to have been training since like… _birth_," Dresden responded, shaking her head. "And working together even longer, if they can do _that_." Neither of the pair had even said so much as a _word _during the battle.

"Actually, they've been here three months," chimed in another voice, its owner flopping down next to Dresden. Raiden grinned at the two girls before pointing downward. "They're Mi-Young Kim and Gavin Vinson. You've heard of them before, haven't you?"

"Kale's mentioned them before…" murmured Dresden, admiration growing. "They're the ones that've been training with Abernant personally, aren't they?"

"That's them," nodded Raiden. "Kinda freaky how well they work together, isn't it?"

Both girls nodded. "How did they _do_ it?" Mel wailed, running a hand through her hair. "I can't even conceive it!"

"Hey—look!" Dresden cut Mel short, pointing furiously downwards. The pair had managed to finish off all of the Heartless, but instead of continuing onward, they'd been caught up short by a strange figure.

A strange figure in a hooded black trenchcoat.

"What—is that those people that they've been talking about?" Raiden gaped. "The ones in the coats with the beads?"

"It certainly looks like it," Dresden responded—her mind was racing. The Organization was really here? What—_why_ would they be bothering with some place like Traverse Town? There wasn't anything there to stop their plan from succeeding—_why_ would they be there? She had absolutely _no_ desire to meet up with the Organization, and she didn't want to have to worry about whether or not she was going to do so.

"Uh-oh." The figure had turned, striding away, but even as he did so he was raising a hand, power seeming to twine around it as it reached the visible spectrum. "I think they said something he didn't like…"

However, before the energy could be released, the man was out of sight.

They all relaxed a moment—but a second later, every single one of them, on ground and on rooftop, stiffened, staring in shock as new forms sprang into shape around the pair of fighters. Dresden recognized them at once—_Nobodies! _They weren't particularly _powerful_ Nobodies—just a few dusks and a couple creepers—but they were Nobodies nonetheless, and for all that Dresden had scene in the months she'd been here, she'd not seen a single one of them.

"What _are_ those?" shrilled Mel, clapping a hand over her mouth. Her next words were muffled: "I've never seen any of those before!"

"They had to have come from that guy." Rai, at least, was trying to keep calm. "Suddenly he shows up and these things sprout out after him? He _had_ to have something to do with this."

"I'm with him," Dresden said quickly. "What should we do?" Did they stay up and out of the way, or go down and fight? She didn't want to get in the way of that amazing teamwork the other two had, but she didn't want to just sit idly by while they did all the work and possibly got injured, or—worse—killed.

"Wait a moment," Raiden decided, reaching out a hand to make sure she wouldn't go jumping off. "Watch."

It was amazing, but Gavin and Mi-Young hadn't even seemed to hesitate at the sight of more enemies—they had taken care of almost all of them. Gavin was taking care of a lone assassin that had melted into the ground, where Mi-Young was facing off against a samurai. "They're amazing…" Dresden murmured, in complete awe.

Gavin slashed at the "wings" of the assassin—it flew up, twisting into a ball; he took it out with a last gunshot. At the same time, Mi-Young and the samurai almost seemed to slow down and freeze entirely—and then they rushed at each other in an instant.

Dresden couldn't follow the movement—but the cry Mi-Young let out told her everything. The woman fell to her knees, arms wrapping 'round her stomach; at the same time, Gavin leapt backwards, sliding inbetween her and the samurai. Another round of gunshots echoed throughout the district, and it faded away—but the damage had been done. "Come on!"

Rai was the first one off the roof; the two girls followed him. They jumped the rail into the actual body of the district, Mel already pulling a pair of gloves out of her pocket. "Did you see what happened?" she asked Gavin, kneeling down next to the pair. "It moved too fast for me."

Gavin shook his head. "I don't know," he murmured, and Dresden was almost shocked by how soft his voice was. "She had it covered. But a split-second…"

"Duel Stance." Dresden's voice was quiet—she didn't want them to hear her. She spoke louder then: "It was like everything slowed down for an instant."

Gavin glanced up at her. "Yeah—just like that."

"Let me see, then," Mel ordered, shifting towards Mi-Young. "I'll see what I can do for her, but you'll definitely want to go and see Miranna, too."

As Mel set to work, closing her eyes to concentrate on the magic within her, Dresden ran her fingers over the hilt of her dagger, glancing around and wondering just _where_ that guy had gotten off to.

It had moved beyond simple observation now.

- - -

It hadn't taken them too long to get Mi-Young in a condition to where she could be moved (Mel, despite everything she said, was very good at her magic), but even so, it seemed the damage had been done. Because as they approached the house where they all met to discuss plans and practice their skills, they could hear the sounds of fighting. "What's going on _now?_" Mel wanted to know, wringing her hands together as they sped up a bit.

"If I had to guess," Rai stated, "I would guess that the man came here next."

"So they're facing the same things that we were." The tone of Gavin's voice made it into a statement rather than a question.

"Looks like it," nodded Dresden. "We should help them."

The rest of them nodded. "But what about Mi-Young?" Mel asked.

"Stay with her," decided Dresden. "You've got the white magic, and I'm sure that you could be of more help than we would."

"All right." Mel nodded, and Gavin, with obvious misgivings, crouched slowly to sit Mi-Young on the ground.

He looked up at Mel. "Keep her safe."

It was really almost like an order, but Mel nodded anyways. "I will. Send any of the injured out to me."

"Let's go," Raiden urged then, and the rest of them pulled away as they drew their weapons, starting towards the house.

Inside, Dresden wasn't surprised to find that there was a lot more chaos than it had seemed. People were everywhere, fighting the Nobodies that sprung up with anything they had. Mages worked together to capture large groups at a time, while physical fighters hacked away at any that came within range of their weapons. She was glad to see that it seemed as though most of the amateur fighters had been evacuated safely, and only those who were knowledgeable enough were inside fighting.

They lost track of Gavin almost immediately; the man had plunged into the fray almost as soon as they'd crossed the threshold. Rai she kept with her a little bit longer; he didn't disappear from her side until they'd reached the stairs—he was drawn into combat with another assassin. Dresden kept plunging onward, though; she _could_ have stopped and fought at any time, but the idea that she had to relay what they'd seen to Abernant kept her going.

She ducked a knife thrown as she headed up the second flight of stairs, keeping low to avoid the dangers. She skirted a few Nobodies, ducked a chair being used against a dusk, and almost _fell_ past people into the main meeting room.

She'd expected Abernant to be there, and he didn't let her down: He and Kale were fighting together, the younger boy standing on top of the table, the older man dancing circles around the Nobodies below that level. "Abernant!" Dresden shouted, drawing her second dagger as she planted a foot into a dusk's gyrating body.

The man spared her a glance—she didn't know what he thought about her being there, but a moment later he was responding: "What is it?"

"The men that they talked about!" Dresden called back, slashing at the dusk. "The ones in the black coats?"

"What of them?" roared Abernant, and fire shot from his hands.

"They're what did this!"

A flash of magic around his hands, and all the Nobodies around Abernant flew backwards, stunned. "What did you say?" he asked, voice quiet for a moment.

Dresden, however, was definitely not skilled enough to pause in fighting yet. "We saw one talk to Gavin and Mi-Young," she explained, carefully timing an attack and dodging around another dusk. "The guy—he talked to them. They argued, and as soon as he left—these things attacked."

"What _are_ they?" Abernant wanted to know as he swept his sword around again.

Dresden bit her lip as she drove once more into a dusk, quickly running her hand over her hair to keep it out of her eyes. What did she say? "I don't—I don't know yet!" she called back. "I've never seen 'em before today, either!" A lie, but one that had to be told.

"Well, then!" Kale, up on the table, finally joined the conversation. "Cover me, sir!" He took a moment, closing his eyes and holding his hands over his sword. His mouth moved in silent speech, and although she couldn't spare more than a glance at him, the feel of the hair on her neck prickling warned Dresden that he was about to loose a very powerful spell. She drove forward, taking out the last Nobody that had been at her side, then fell back, returning to Abernant's side to help him drive away the Nobodies that would try to attack a sitting target.

A moment more, and Kale's eyes shot open, glassed over by a pale-green glow. He shot off the table, winds rushing around him, and Dresden's jaw fell open as he darted out the door. "What—just—he's a—_what?_" she spluttered, finally looking to Abernant.

Abernant nodded. "Kale is a berserker. I thought you would have noticed—most people do."

"And how was I supposed to do that?" Now it was Dresden's turn to shrill. "He never gives any hint of it!"

"Because he usually doesn't let himself," responded Abernant. "That's not my story to tell. You'll have to ask him if you really want to know. Help me set this room straight again."

Dresden nodded, and so for the next few minutes they worked, righting the tables in the room and setting back up chairs, moving broken items to a corner to be taken out later, and piling up the stacks of paper that had been sent flying by the battle. By the time they'd finished, most of the others had joined them. By the time Kale finally walked back in, looking a little run down and worse for the wear, everyone was sitting around the tables, a few people nursing wounds and potions, others chatting quietly. Thinking of what Abernant had said before, Dresden examined him closely, noting that there were a few scrapes across his arms that hadn't been there before, and that he'd acquired some sort of necklace—one she'd never seen him wearing before. _A berserker… that's –not– how I'm used to berserkers behaving,_ Dresden thought. _I thought they couldn't control themselves at all, that they couldn't be in –any– sort of battle_.

"—tention that the culprits of this are none other than the men we've been discussing for the past several weeks," Abernant was saying—he'd begun when Kale had entered the room. "It is with this in mind that I say we set all eligible fighters to work—we need to amass a team to take these men on and stop them from setting even _more_ dangerous creatures on our town."

"The Heartless are enough to deal with already!" cried another voice.

"Yeah!"

A chorus of voices rose up; Abernant silenced them all with a motion of his hands. "I couldn't agree with you more, my friends. Thus, we must prepare ourselves to fight against them, and find as many as will aid us in our battle."

He frowned, looking over them all. "This is now war."


	5. In Which Decisions Are Reached

_"__Yes, badfic clichés. I know "Those Lacking Spines" is a hilarious spoof that handles horrible clichés with finesse and humor. But I'm curious to see if you guys can write half-way seriously the following and turn them into goodfic.__  
1. A self-insert character gets sucked into their PS2."  
-- (challenge from ChaosRamenCup at Kingdom Hearts FanFiction Rants)  
_

I still live, I promise! I tend to go off in long periods of death sometimes, usually when classes begin to hit hard. I've still a week left of break, so we'll see if I manage to pull out anything more before heading back, won't we?

I hope all of you had a great winter break, and that you enjoy this chapter!

--

**Disclaimer:** This story and all elements contained herein (unless noted), are property of Disney & Square-Enix, 2001-2007. PlayStation and its associated devices are property to Sony. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dresden Richards and most of the characters in this chapter are property of Epoison.

* * *

**Chapter Five  
**_In Which Decisions Are Reached, And Arguments Are Had  
_

It was a hard decision on everyone's part.

"The continued presence of these beings in our town has led us to decide," Abernant was saying. "It is with regret that I must announce the closure of many segments of our training corps."

Dresden was sitting in the front of the amassed groups—she heard all sorts of reactions in the crowd. Some gasped, others couldn't help but whisper a quiet "Yesss!" (ostensibly because that meant they'd finally leave Kale's drill-team sort of training), still others tittered because, of course—it _had_ to be a joke.

Abernant held up his hands for quiet. "I wish I was kidding you all," he murmured, and he actually had to look down for a moment. "But there has been an attack on us all—a new enemy has revealed itself. It isn't safe for us to continue meeting as we have in the past."

"But what about those of us not _ready_ to leave?" called out a member from the back. "You can't expect us to go out on our own?"

Abernant shook his head. "We do not. _However_," he added, cutting short more babble, "we _will_ be speeding up our training. We don't have the time we had at one point. In addition, several of our heads will be leaving us, to pursue this new lead."

"Why are you leaving us?" demanded another to know. "Isn't there someone else out there taking care of this? That's what you've been saying!"

He nodded. "It _is_ true that there is a boy that has worked to save the worlds. But during the last period of peace—the downtime, when the Heartless were but naught—Sora disappeared." He bowed his head for a moment, then looked back up. "We did not want to tell you this. But things are dire—much needs to be taken into our own hands."

That seemed to get everyone's attention.

"All who have passed fifteen weeks of training will be required to go out, provided they pass the tests we have to test your skills. I wouldn't advise trying to put on a show," he noted, "as we will be judging you without your knowledge, and we know how you've been progressing. Please don't try to convince us that you need to remain here after we've told you that you are ready."

He sighed. "I also have the dishonor of informing you all of those who will be leaving us. They will be leading teams to different sectors of worlds, to try and follow up any leads on what might be happening. We want to know_who_ these characters are, _what_ they want, and _where_ their headquarters are based. It will also be very helpful to understand _how_ they are fighting, and exactly what those things are that they attacked us with." Abernant took a deep breath, then continued. "Along the list of those leaving are Airen Nalead, our prime…"

As he spoke, Dresden glanced around the crowd—she'd been permitted, with Rai and Mel, and Gavin and Mi-Young, to sit in on the meeting that had occurred after the battle was over, since they'd been the ones to see the figure. It had been hard to play dumb—especially when the others still didn't even know the monsters to be Nobodies—but by keeping quiet and thinking _hard_ before she'd spoken, Dresden hadn't done too badly.

And after that was when the arguing had begun.

"What do you think we should do?" Abernant had asked—that had started it all.

"We fight, of course!" Airen had shouted, jumping to his feet. "We can't just sit here and do nothing—if we take this sort of thing, they'll continue to attack us whenever they please! Are we to remain here as sitting ducks while these unknowns come and knock us off one-by-one?"

"We can't just sit here," agreed Kale—he'd been the youngest there, but the others had given him his own respect. "But we can't just pack up and move, either. What about our responsibilities to this town? What about those we're helping to train? We _certainly_ can't take them with us—we can't put them in the middle of the danger. And we can't leave them here, either: they'll have no way of learning the necessary skills. If all of us go, who will keep Traverse Town from overflowing with Heartless? It's amazing enough that they stay out of the First District even, with all the people there."

"You raise a good point," had admitted Airen. "But we can't just remain frozen statues!"

"You just want to rush into danger," snapped Iralos, "You're too headstrong, Airen. We can't lose all our most important defenders!"

"But he's right," declared Jo'anis. "If this is happening to Traverse Town, what about all the other worlds out there? With Sora gone—yes, I said it," he snapped as several sharp intakes of breath were heard. "I don't know what's happened to him, but he's _gone_ and it's up to us, now. We can't sit here and wait for some other fool to come along and decide to save us. We're all we've got."

"You say that like you think Sora's abandoned us," noted Amalia coldly.

"Who's to say he didn't?" challenged Jo'anis. "You all know he found that girl he was after, and it's said he found the boy, as well. Who's there to say that he wouldn't just go on home and hell take whatever dangers spring up next?"

"Just because _you'd_ turn tail and to hell with the worlds doesn't mean that—"

"Sora isn't _like_ that," Amalia interrupted Iralos's words, narrowing her eyes at Jo'anis. "You clearly didn't meet him when he was through here the last times."

"And you did?" demanded Jo'anis.

Amalia nodded once, curtly. "He was opposite of you in every way. Someone who cared more for others than himself, who actually cared about most of the people he _met_ on his journey. He wouldn't have just turned his back on us in our time of need. Sora is the sort of person that's going to continue this—until it's completely _done_ with."

"You put a lot of faith in some snot-nosed brat," Jo'anis scoffed. "That's going to get you in trouble at the end."

"What are you saying, Jo'anis?"

"If you're threatening Amalia…" Airen started in on him, too.

"How cute," sniffed Iralos. "A lover's quarrel."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Ira," snapped Ninia, smacking a hand to the table.

"And I suppose you also think we need to go charging recklessly through the worlds?" Iralos responded pointedly.

"Wait a minute—no," stumbled Ninia. "I never said that…!"

"There's more to life than some personal vendetta, Airen!"

"That's something I'd expect you to say, Mr I-Don't-Give-a-Damn-How-Many-Die!"

"Airen, that's horrible to say!"

"It's what he deserves!"

"If I don't give a damn how many die, I'll erase your face right here and now!"

"Jo'anis, this isn't the time for that, either!"

"Iralos, what do you think?"

"I can't believe you'd try to turn against us now!"

"I just think the lot've you are idiots! I'm not turnin' against nobody!"

"_Double negative!_"

"Shaddup!"

"Ninia, stop that!"

"But I—"

"You want to just try and talk over anyone who thinks different than you; is that it, Nalead?"

"Why, I oughta—"

"Airen, _stop!_"

Dresden was staring. She couldn't believe how out-of-hand this was getting—wasn't Abernant going to stop it? But no, no—the man was talking quietly with Kale; both of them were tracing lines on an invisible map before them, ignoring the shouting entirely. She glanced around: Gavin and Mi-Young were talking quietly as well, Mi-Young resting her head on his shoulder; Rai and Mel looked almost the same as she herself did. "This is supposed to be the group that leads us all?" Mel wondered quietly.

"They're about as mature as a group of schoolkids!" Raiden scorned.

"I don't think any of us expected this," Dresden murmured, shaking her head. She couldn't help it—she reached forward, tugging at Abernant's sleeve.

"Hmm?" He glanced up, then over at the three of them. "Yes, Dresden?"

Dresden bit her lip for a moment. "Aren't you going to do anything… about _them_?" she asked after a long second, jerking her thumb at the rest of the table. The noise level was slowly but surely increasing, and several members were on their feet.

Abernant blinked, as though seeing it for the first time. "Ah, yes," he said, then raised his voice. "Please, people, I'd prefer the dust didn't start falling from the ceiling this time! Lower your voices a bit if you're going to argue."

…Dresden could only blink as he and Kale returned to conversation, and the shouting quieted only somewhat. She glanced to her right again, and Rai shrugged. "That's politics?" he offered.

The next few minutes were awkward ones for Dresden. On one side of her was an argument that seemed to be ready to escalate into a full-out brawl, and on the other were the two planners, still discussing quietly. The group in the argument seemed to be pulling itself into two sides: those for leaving and those wanting to calm down and leave it in other hands. All were shouting, but it was still Jo'anis and Airen leading the arguments.

Finally Airen threw a punch at Jo'anis, jumping clean over the table separating them.

Jo'anis retaliated, reaching out a hand encased in ice and grabbing hold of Airen's shoulder tightly. The man shouted again, trying to pull back, but when that didn't work he lashed out again, grabbing Jo'anis by the throat. The noise intensified as both sides reacted to this, Amalia ordering both parties to let _go_ of each other and Ninia almost in shrills as she cried out in worry.

It was at this time that Abernant finally stood up. "Settle _down!_" he ordered, and with a movement of his hands the two men were separated from each other, although a thick coating of ice still covered Airen's shoulder.

Abernant was scowling, glaring coldly 'round the table. As the rest of the members scrambled, the sounds of chair-legs scraping the floor, the man made another motion that sent Airen flying back across the table, falling heavily into a chair. "Sometimes I wonder why I even bother putting these questions to you lot," he growled, resting both hands on the table. "If you can't have a conversation civilly, with_out_ the lunging for each other's throats, how can I trust you to teach others your skills?"

Silence reigned. All that had been involved in the argument looked away; even Dresden couldn't look up at him. They'd been being foolish—Abernant was right.

It was quiet for a long moment.

"But—but captain," ventured a voice timidly. Amalia's. "Do _you_ think that Sora would abandon us?"

That one line seemed to take all the steam from Abernant; he deflated. "I don't think any of us know for certain," he responded quietly. "I did not get the impression of a selfish teen that would sacrifice anything for what he wanted, but in light of his disappearance, I cannot defend him without doubting my own words."

For the first time, Dresden found herself wanting to give herself away: she wanted to jump up and cry, "Sora's alive! He's just out-of-commission for the time being—but don't worry! He'll be back. I've seen him myself."

However… She kept silent. It wasn't something that she was supposed to say.

"I do agree with one thing, though," Abernant told them all. "It's time that we took our destiny into our own hands. We cannot sit here and hope that Sora will come again to save us all, like so many did the first time. Pardon my preaching, but is it not said that one must first help_ themself?_ We cannot expect someone to come riding in out of no-where, content to save our lives. _We_ cannot sit here, waiting for that knight to ride in. If we want a change to be made,_ we_ need to be the ones to make that change."

"With all due respect," spoke up Iralos, his voice low, _almost_ patronizing but close enough to keep on the other side, "I don't agree. I don't agree that we should be sending out these people to their deaths. _Or_ that we should be losing so many skilled defenders and leaving our center completely unguarded. It's not good strategy."

"Fine," allowed Abernant, raising an eyebrow. "I agree."

"You do?"

Dresden barely had time to register the shock in his voice before Abernant was speaking again. "That's why it has been decided that you will remain here."

At this time, Kale stood up, as well, looking to Abernant for permission to speak. Upon receiving it, he nodded once, straightening his shoulders. "We'll be keeping our actual headquarters here for the time being. Half of you will be remaining here, and half will be going out into the worlds…"

- - -

"Finally, Amalia will be leading a team into the worlds, as well," finished Abernant, sighing heavily.

"What about you, sir?" someone called out.

Abernant looked out into the amassed, then smiled regretfully. "I will be remaining here."

The gathered broke out in a new wave of murmurs—the famous Abernant wouldn't be going out to fight? He was so good in battle, so strong (and now that Dresden had seen this first-hand, she knew just how true the rumors actually were). How could he do something like remain behind?

"But sir!" called out the lad that had spoken before. "We all thought you'd want to be right in the middle of it! I mean, you're so…"

Abernant smiled again. "While I am glad that you all seem to think so highly of me, I owe something to each and every person here. Sometimes, despite one's strength, the most useful place for him is _out_ of the battlefield."

His eyes closed just a moment before opening again—a wave of businesslike manner seemed to settle over him, and he set his papers aside. "As I have said before, we will not be forcing trainees to leave us. But it is safe to say that if you have been training with us longer than the fifteen-week period stated, you may need to ready yourself to move out into the worlds—even if it is another part of Traverse Town. Think about this long and hard before you decide where you want to be—danger is found in all corners of the universe, but some of the areas we will be investigating could be more hazardous than others, particularly here."

Abernant let the words settle over them all for a long minute, and then he clapped his hands twice. "And now that the news has been announced, let us train as a whole one more time. This may well be the last time we are all together again. Acolytes, to your stations, please."

- - -

"What's this?"

Dresden held up the bundle that had been thrown at her by two fingers, dangling it by the scratchy string that wrapped around it to keep it closed.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" Rai questioned, raising an eyebrow at the bundle he'd been thrown. "I think that might be the quickest route."

Dresden glanced up at Kale, raising an eyebrow. However, the man didn't respond—he folded his arms, leaning back against the table. _Honestly, he's as bad as Squa—Leon, sometimes_, she thought bitterly, sulking a moment before beginning to unwrap the "gift." It wasn't anything much, just something soft wrapped in brown parcel paper, rough twine sealing it shut. Both Rai and Mel had received one, as well, and were opening theirs quicker than she was.

"How neat!" Mel was the first one to get hers open. Inside was a small, black jacket with wide bell sleeves. "Did you get this from Miranna?" she asked of Kale—he nodded.

"It would not be wise to send you out without giving you some form of protection," he explained. "Miranna enchanted it—according to her it should keep you from some harm, though don't expect it to protect you if someone's stabbing you through. She also put some spell on the sleeves—she called it 'a spell to maximize the potentials and minimize the risk factors in carrying the tools of our trade.' Something like that."

Mel looked over the sleeves with a new respect, a smile crossing her face. "That's like her," she said fondly. "This will be very useful. Thank you for bringing it to me."

"And mine's from Airen, isn't it?" Rai spoke up next—he'd received a sword-belt that looked to be made of supple leather (it was very beaten, and hard to categorize), as well as a bronze bracer.

Kale nodded. "He said you had a weak wrist—it should help you to use that strength of yours more effectively. The belt is said to have come from another world—according to the person he bought it from, it once belonged to the Prince of the Enchanted Forest. It supposedly can shield the wearer from some forms of magic."

Rai nodded, as well, and although he didn't say anything in response, Dresden could see the look on his face as he examined his gifts: he was pleased.

Finally she glanced back down, to the half-opened package in her lap. She pulled the rest of the paper away, looking down, and… "What _is_ it?" she wanted to know, pulling the mass of material out of the paper. She had to stand up to let the garment unfold; in her hands was a long, brown, hooded coat. There were several pockets on the inside of it, only a couple on the outer side, and a slit ran up the back all the way to the waist. She _did_ have to admit it was of a soft material, though, and as she blinked at it, she thought that in all honesty she might like it very much indeed.

"That's from Abernant," Kale noted as she shrugged it on, marveling at how comfortable and _warm_ it was. "Sometimes the climates of visited worlds are challenging. That coat is waterproof and flame-retardant. Besides that, you'll be wanting to keep your identity secret at times, and the pockets on the inside can help you keep things safe."

Dresden was floored. It wasn't as in-your-face useful as the gifts Mel and Rai had received, but this was the perfect sort of thing for her: how often had she lamented the loss of her favorite jacket since she'd reached Traverse Town? Experimentally, she flipped the hood up, and she felt a grin crossing her face. This was definitely the sort of thing she would have wanted, even if she'd had the choice. "I'll have to give him my thanks," she decided, wrapping her arms around herself and internally squealing over the coat. "But what are these _for?_" She had the feeling she already knew, but it was worth asking.

Kale's next words confirmed it. "Since the three of you were the first ones to see one of these Unknowns, you'll be heading out with the groups to search for them. It makes sense that those who actually know what we're looking for are an important part of the work. Gavin and Mi-Young leave at the next quarter for their destination. Take only the bare necessities—we won't have much room to stow it all."

Dresden stopped abruptly. They were… being recruited? Oh, gods, this wasn't what she wanted! …Was it? She didn't know. She'd signed up for it, hadn't she? But… she couldn't imagine it. She couldn't imagine herself really _out there_, risking life and limb for the rest of the people out there. She was just a student still, going through classes and making fun of bad writing…! She wasn't the sort of person to go off to war…

But then again, looking at Kale's _face_, she didn't know if she was going to be able to get out of it.

_You –did– say that you were willing to go, you know. When you first got here._

_I didn't think they'd really send me…_

_But were you lying, then? Lying so that you could get into the training?_

…_I don't know._

_Well, now you'll have to live up to what they're expecting of you. You got yourself into this, so you'll just have to deal with the consequences of your choice, won't you?_

_You're heartless._

_Damn straight._

As Dresden struggled with the consequences of such a decision, Rai put out a question: "Who are we going with?" he wanted to know—_he_ didn't seem to show any fear in going out into the worlds. _He_ wasn't afraid of it all… Dresden bit her tongue, looking to Kale for the answer.

"Abernant and I decided that the best places for you three would be with me, for now," he told them. "We'll be going to a place called Hollow Bastion first—some of the people that live there were quite influential here the last time the Heartless were wreaking havoc. Hopefully that should be a good starting place. Mel, we're thinking that you'll stay there—there's another mage there who might even be better than Miranna. You ought to take the opportunity to learn from her while you investigate."

"And Rai and me?" Dresden ventured.

"One of you will be staying in Hollow Bastion," Kale responded. "The other one will be coming with me."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"We'll be moving through various worlds, looking for hints as to the Unknown's whereabouts and motives. We're not there to put on a show, we're not there to seal off the worlds—it's strictly business."

"Wait a moment," Rai ordered, holding up his hands. "We can't stop and take care of the people on a world if they need it?"

Kale shook his head. "We can help the people if they need it. But we can't stay on a world with the intent of destroying all that's attacking it and sealing it off so it won't be attacked again. Our goal is to save as _many_ worlds as possible—sometimes, that might involve leaving one that hasn't been sealed off yet."

"And in Hollow Bastion?"

"General muscle-work, in addition to burrowing for information. You'll likely help them to rebuild."

"I want to stay in Hollow Bastion, as well," decided Rai.

Kale leveled his gaze towards Dresden. "I suppose that puts you with me."

"Seems like it," Dresden replied, concentrating so that she wouldn't avert her eyes or fidget. "When are we leaving?"

Kale nodded, understanding what she hadn't said. "We leave tomorrow morning."

- - -

The next morning never really dawned. Traverse Town was as dark as it had ever been; nothing had ever really changed. Even so, it was strange to be looking out over the town and knowing she wouldn't be returning for a long while. Even stranger when she thought of everything that surrounded the town.

Dresden sighed, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head. It was time to be getting ready to go, not time to be reminiscing about the world-that-wasn't-but-somehow-_was_. "Hey, Richards!"

She turned, looking to the source of the voice—Rai was standing there with a cheeky grin. "Come on," he said, thumbing his nose at her. "We're all ready. How about you?"

A last look over the town. "Yeah. Let's go."

It was an adventure that awaited her, after all.


End file.
